


Racing

by Poochee



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Rush (2013)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Bars and Pubs, Blow Jobs, Cooking, Domestic, Grocery Shopping, M/M, Prompt Fill, Queen helps me fill prompts, everything's a race to James, i'm shit at titling things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poochee/pseuds/Poochee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> The Austrian had been, admittedly, confused about the whole thing. Yeah, sure James had finished first—mostly because he could only be trusted with the boxed macaroni and cheese while Niki tackled their chicken breasts, but that didn’t mean he ‘won’. James would act as if the simplest things were a competition between them; that he would ‘win’ somehow, out of nowhere, without any real rules aside from finishing a task first.</i>
</p><p>Another prompt!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Racing

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked: domestic Launt where James makes everything a race including cooking dinner, grocery shopping, and drinking. the only race he ever loses is cumming first.
> 
> Want to prompt me? Ask me on [tumblr](http://poochee.tumblr.com/ask)! c:

He and James have been living together for almost four months now, but Niki only soon realizes that everything to this asshole is a race, even without a track. Honestly, racing is something they do for a living, shouldn’t they keep it  _out_  of the house they share?

One evening, while they’re cooking together (how sickeningly domestic is that, Niki has to think), James is stirring his concoction in his pan with a wooden spoon, when out of nowhere, exclaims, “Would you look at that, Niki— _my_  half of dinner is already prepared!”

The Austrian had been, admittedly, confused about the whole thing. Yeah, sure James had finished first—mostly because he could only be trusted with the boxed macaroni and cheese while Niki tackled their chicken breasts, but that didn’t mean he ‘won’. James would act as if the simplest things were a competition between them; that he would ‘win’ somehow, out of nowhere, without any real rules aside from finishing a task first.

Niki swore he was cheating. Somehow. And it was mildly irritating.

Still, James had been incredibly smug over his win as he presented his saucepan of macaroni and cheese to his flatmate. Niki had only given him an annoyed look before checking on their chicken in the oven, muttering, “It’s not a race, asshole.”

—

But it isn’t just in the house, either. Later that week they’re low on groceries, and that means the inevitable trip to the grocery store. Niki doesn’t care too much for it, searching around for food that’ll only last them a week and spending well-earned money, but he has to eat, and so does James.

It’s ridiculous how much the Brit can pack away, too, with how thin he is. Niki swears he has a hollow leg or something.

He’s looking over his half of the list in front of the iceburg lettuce — splitting the list had always seemed like a great idea to Niki, it saved a load of time and gave his endlessly amused Brit something to do – when James came strolling over with his basket full of items, looking smug in that way when he only wants to annoy Niki, and simply announced, “Oh, would you look at that? I finished my half of the shopping list before you did, Niki!”

He just stares at James with his eyebrows furrowed and top lip curled slightly, wondering what the hell his problem was.

And when James insists on giving a kiss for a consolation prize, Niki leaves him in the produce section.

—

That Saturday night, two days later, James had invited Niki along to the bar with a couple of girls. They had all shared a few beers at their place before making their way downtown to the bars, laughing and having a great time.

Until an hour into their visit at the bar, of course.

“Another round, please!” James shouts over the music to the bartender, who simply nods in understanding.

Niki wants to protest, say that he’s had enough, because his motor skills are slowing, but the beers are put down at their table not two minutes later.

“What’s the matter, Niki darling?” James smirks, wrapping three fingers around the neck of the glass bottle gently, his other arm wrapped around one of the pretty girls who had invited him, “Had enough?”

Niki glares at him despite his blurred vision, “No,” he mutters, grabbing his beer and lifting it to his lips, ignoring the chatty brunette next to him for the time being. A smirk is on James’ lips then, and just like that, it’s another race.

But two more beers later, Niki refuses his last one, not enjoying the thought of becoming sick, and James looks both terrifically drunk and proud as he gives something close to a victory roar.

“I win,” James grins around the mouth of his bottle, sending the Austrian a playful wink.

Niki rolls his eyes and goes to dance with his new chatty ‘friend’.

—

Later that morning, Sunday around four or five a.m., James is nearly spread-eagled on the couch in their living room, head thrown back against the cushions and moaning at the top of his lungs as Niki pounds into him, kneeling on the floor and keeping his legs apart with his hands.

Niki blames James’ wandering hands for this. Their walk home had been filled with playful banter and shameless flirting, just by themselves as the girls left together, and the Brit’s hands had begun to wander to inappropriate places that shouldn’t be touched in public, but Niki had been too drunk to really protest at the time. He had moved James’ hand, though, just in case. It didn’t keep James’ lips away from his neck or earlobe, of course, but Niki hadn’t been  _too_  bothered by that, either.

And when he had been pushed against the door once they were inside, smothered by sloppy kisses that really shouldn’t have been half as arousing as they were, Niki knew denying James was a lost cause. So, as soon as James sat on the couch, spread his legs, and palmed the bulge in his jeans as a show, he had gone and searched for the lube in his bedroom.

“Niki, Niki,” James pants loudly, finally beginning to stroke his flushed cock that had been slapping against his lower stomach for the past twenty minutes, “’m gonna cum…” He whines, biting down on his lip.

The Brit was always too loud during sex, especially when he drank, but it was becoming a mild kink of Niki’s, so he only began to thrust harder and let out a few of his own select moans.

But when he came inside James not five minutes later, the blond whined in disappointment, clenching around Niki desperately who was gasping for air as if he just ran a marathon. He promptly pulled out and ducked his head, resorting to sucking James’ orgasm from him. He sucked and swallowed around the throbbing length, savouring the sound of James’ moans and whines whenever he traced the vein on the underside of his cock or tongued at the little slit.

He swallowed down as much as he could when James exploded on his tongue, sucking the Brit until he was overstimulated and pushing him away, and then he pulled his swollen lips off James with a little smirk as a thought occurred to him.

“I win,” he breathed, wiping at the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at the spent Brit.

James stared down at Niki from his spot for a few moments, flushed and panting, before saying cheekily, “I don’t think that’s exactly something to celebrate, Niki.”

Niki’s smirk disappeared and he slapped James’ thigh roughly, trying to hold back his own bit of laughter as James began to chuckle. Asshole.


End file.
